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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625151">the day i met you (i just wanted to protect you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late'>far2late</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ilomilo [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Possession, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, BAMF Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Bonding, Comfort, Crying, Demonic Possession, Domestic Fluff, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enderman Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Family Bonding, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Hurt Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Immortal Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Other, Panic, Panic Attacks, Pig Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Possession, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Recovery, Sad, Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), no beta i never beta ever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:41:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/far2late/pseuds/far2late</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ranboo buried his head in his knees, taking in deep shuddering breaths as he muttered to himself in fast, stuttering words. Most of them go over his own head as he struggled to make sense of what was going on, of the information he had gotten after the explosions, after the raining canons, after his home was destroyed and after Technoblade sent him away to be safe, not even worth it in the end. </p><p>“Nothing was worth it in the end,” Ranboo mumbled to himself, pain wracking through his body as he gasped so sharply it felt like he broke a rib in the process. There was a stitch in his side that he couldn’t ignore amid his panic, as much as he tried to push it down and convince himself he wasn’t spiralling, he was thinking out loud because it organized his thoughts. He didn’t bring up the fact that he was so scared to write in his books that he would’ve rather burnt them than feel anything close to how he felt in the festival the other day." </p><p>or </p><p>ranboo finds something more than loyalty to a crater with phil and technoblade. meanwhile, a creeping force sneaks its way into the circle of three.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ranboo &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>ilomilo [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2095689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1781</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The thing about Ranboo is that he’s never been around when L’manberg was at its peak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t there to see its slow rise from a small drug van and a man with hope in his eyes and a dream bring a nation forth to fight their way out from under the thumb of a dictator who only wanted to ruin his children’s lives. He wasn’t there when Tommy laid down his first life, fresh-faced and fifteen for the country he loved in the face of a cryptid in the hopes they would be able to recognize themselves as a country. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Ranboo wasn’t there when they won, drunk with joy and beer they definitely shouldn’t have had at the gentle ages of fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, Wilbur the only one legally allowed within their ranks. It reeked of something depressing hidden under the thin film of victory, the fact that their troops fought in a war before rum passed their lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He wasn’t there when L’manberg had held its elections and lost the two things that made it </span>
  <em>
    <span>L’manberg. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He’s never had to learn to adapt in a world where Wilbur wasn’t standing tall on his walls and sitting in the caravan, never adapting to a world where Tommy is right around the corner and has bright hope in his eyes that seems to be printed into them, never dimming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He isn’t there to watch a nation tear itself apart from the inside as a warm, strong man whose words inspired a revolution in his people blew his nation to smithereens with no regret, begging to die directly after. Ranboo’s never had to experience the feeling of turning to see a haunting face that holds none of its warmth and familiarity, isn’t the one to wish for a warm hug from a sad ghost who tries to burn his feelings away into dust. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The air of L’manberg is dead, the final hurrah gone with the tree, burned by the very last woman who had loved it almost as much as its founder. He watched it smoulder, eyes blank and panic coursing through his veins as leaves turned to ash, wondering if he should feel something for this. Another wither skull goes flying at his feet and he forgets the thought ever existed, almost like he’s forgotten everything else that he wished to keep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo isn’t sure where the memory thing comes from. Maybe it’s from his less Enderman side, though it seemed unfair to refer to the two separate parts of himself as the Enderman and the Other. It’s more of a mix that he had grown close to in his loneliness as he travelled across lands far and wide. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The journeys he’s made are comparable to the adventures of L’manberg, Ranboo thought once. That one he remembered, mostly because it had made him feel a little less alone in the midst of war-torn citizens who still managed to keep hope in their eyes when he had panic attacks almost every other week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His journey across Hypixel and the Hive and so many faction areas are written neatly into notebooks he left in a safe place, safer than anything L’manberg had ever been for him. They lay in his subconscious, his memories slipping through when he made the conscious choice to wear armour despite L’manberg’s rule against it and how he learned that he had to shout to be heard, and how he’s most dangerous when he doesn’t fight, even if he can kill with little hesitation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His skills are unprecedented for his behaviour, but they take a target off his back when he doesn’t showcase them to the world with the same intensity that came from Technoblade. The man was renowned for Skywars arenas, bloody and savage, illegal Bedwars tournaments, which end up with more permanent deaths than should be regular for lands like Hypixel. Ranboo knew of Technoblade, the Blood God, but it’s from Dream’s lands he learns of Technoblade, protector and anarchist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The destruction of L’manberg still hurt, even if he hadn’t been around from the beginning. It’s hard to look at a place where he had finally let down his walls enough to settle down and make himself a home with pets he loved dearly. The trust issues that came with going rogue and straying away from what he knew were squashed down in favour of trusting the people around him, opening himself up to everyone who he knew wasn’t going to kill everything he loved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He never opened up to Dream in the first place, despite how determined everyone else seemed to be to trust him at the drop of a hat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The thing about Ranboo is that he saw Tubbo and Tommy break themselves apart for what was now a crater, he watched Phil sever bonds with his dead son for a pit of withers and TNT that never stopped raining from the skies, laughing always echoing throughout the obsidian grid that covered the skies and shielded him from rain. He watched Niki denounce what she loved in favour of resentment for her dead friend’s brother and spit on his dream. Ranboo watched, watched, watched, and he learned that he was right in the end, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The day before seemed to be something of a fever dream, with everyone going a little unhinged. Fundy wouldn’t stop laughing and Eret was scheming with Niki and Ponk wouldn’t stop shaking as he left the mines with armfuls of supplies. Ranboo was exposed as a traitor and a violent part of him screamed for blood as everyone’s heads swung toward him in unison, eyes burning into his, hurting him. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He was for </span>
  <em>
    <span>people, </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the end. And the people here wanted him for their own uses. Fundy wanted him for another side, Quackity wanted him to get rid of them by using those that existed already, and he just wished he was brave enough to burn his fucking memory book in his panic room so he could stop thinking about it all and go back to the recluse he was before he stumbled upon these cursed lands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo buried his head in his knees, taking in deep shuddering breaths as he muttered to himself in fast, stuttering words. Most of them go over his own head as he struggled to make sense of what was going on, of the information he had gotten after the explosions, after the raining canons, after his home was destroyed and after Technoblade sent him away to be safe, not even worth it in the end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing was worth it in the end,” Ranboo mumbled to himself, pain wracking through his body as he gasped so sharply it felt like he broke a rib in the process. There was a stitch in his side that he couldn’t ignore amid his panic, as much as he tried to push it down and convince himself he wasn’t spiralling, he was thinking out loud because it organized his thoughts. He didn’t bring up the fact that he was so scared to write in his books that he would’ve rather burnt them than feel anything close to how he felt in the festival the other day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>It was terrifying, and the same feeling of adrenaline, dread, fear, tears stinging in his eyes was coming back full force. He stumbled to his feet, desperate to do something to keep a little bit of his head on straight, even if he knew that it wasn’t worth it. Ranboo should leave, he should leave because it was all his fault in the end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes snap open at those words, wide as he scrambled to leave his panic room, abandon the obsidian walls around him as he swam through burning water and shook off the droplets, suit wet and soggy as he made his way back to the crater that was L’manberg. Ranboo had to see it for himself, had to see what he had done and what could’ve stopped if he hadn’t been so selfish and tired and sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He came to a skidding stop in front of the crater, just overlooking the lip of it as stray canons came down on the lands, blowing up so far off that they didn’t even make the land under his feet shake anymore. Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to stand, anyway, sinking to the ground with shaking limbs as he collapsed in a heap of bones he wished had burnt with the city. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I hadn’t… If I hadn’t come here. And. If I hadn’t come here, then Tommy wouldn’t have burnt down George’s house, and Tubbo wouldn’t have exiled him, and he wouldn’t have gone to Technoblade, and the Butcher Army wouldn’t have brought him out of retirement, he wouldn’t have- have gotten mad, he- I didn’t-” A whimper broke the end of his sentence, face crumpling as he pressed his claws into the side of his legs, arms wrapped around his crossed legs in an attempt to take up as little space as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo was a problem, that was all he was. He ruined L’manberg, he killed it, he killed the country and he killed Fundy and Tommy and Tubbo, he killed their spirit and destroyed their home, he killed them and ruined everything for them. It was raining, it was raining and his skin burnt, his hair grew wet and his face burned, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he let the skin off his hands peel off painfully, sizzling in the rain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He killed Friend, too, and Ghostbur had been upset. Ranboo deserved to melt in the rain like Ghostbur almost did while trying to look for his companion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amid his onslaught of tears and self-hatred, torture of himself, and panic, he didn’t notice the pinging of his comm in his suit’s pocket, silently going off in the pocket of his suit with no attention brought to it. He had long since set it to silent, only seeing the messages when he needed to. He didn’t want to listen to Niki shout at him anymore, he didn’t want to see Fundy pleading him to be the mental stability he needed, he didn’t want to see more messages of death and pain painted in blood because he had been selfish and wanted a </span>
  <em>
    <span>home. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He noticed the ping of his in-ear call turn itself on, however, and he quickly tried to straighten up, make himself sound presentable as thunder rumbled above him. Ranboo could see a citizen or two digging through the rubble. His chest squeezed in pain as he forced himself to ignore it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ranboo. How are you, did you get away okay?” Came Phil’s gentle voice, friendly as it always was. As though Ranboo hadn’t killed everything everyone loved and held dear. As if he hadn’t blown up the Community House.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The flint and steel he left in the now blown-up weapons chest in the midst of Eret’s unfinished castle haunted him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… yeah. I, I got away,” Came Ranboo’s weak reply, looking up over the crater with what felt like a numbness wrecking his soul with the same black hole that had sucked up the only memories he wanted to fight for. Phil hummed, either ignoring his shaky voice or not bringing it up out of common courtesy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, okay. You… you alright? I saw- I knew you lived in L’manberg, do you… do you need a place to stay?” A half-hearted laugh escaped him as he choked on a sob, wiping at his face as he struggled to take in another breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t- How do you think I </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” A keening escaped the back of his throat as he tried to breathe in through the rain and water and salt that seeped into his mouth and made it burn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo, what do you-?” He cut off the question before he finished it, rustling coming from his side of the line. “Where are you, Ranboo?” His voice was firm, but Ranboo didn’t take note of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How- It’s all my fault, it’s my fault if I didn’t- If i didn’t just,” A gasp followed the words as he tried to stop the coughing fit that followed. Phil’s voice echoed through his head but he could hardly differentiate it from the other ones that echoed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I hadn’t been so- so </span>
  <em>
    <span>selfish, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I- L’manberg would still be h-h...here and Tubbo and Tommy and F-fundy wouldn’t hate everything about what they lo...ved, and- and I didn’t… I </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t mean to, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Phil, I swear, I didn’t-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo!” Phil’s sharp voice came through his head as he snapped his mouth shut, attempting to hold back another fit of tears and coughing. He could faintly feel blood building up in the back of his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you listening to me?” He continued, a choked out yes following the words. “Okay, I need you to do something for me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything to fix this,” He breathed, listening to the sad sigh that came through the other side of his earphone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need you to take a few deep breaths for me, alright?” Phil asked, voice soft as the wind whistled through his ears. Ranboo blinked slowly at the crater, eyes blurring. It went silent, though rain still pattered down on his suit and armour. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s… that’s it?” He asked softly, voice shaking and weak amid his mind screaming at him for his mistakes and how bad he had been. Phil hummed through his line, just a sound to reassure him he was still there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s it. Just do that and everything’ll be fine,” Phil repeated his words calmly, the teen inhaling shakily through stuttering tears. Ranboo tried, he really did, but the panic crept upon him again and he couldn’t stop the panic overtaking him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That- that can’t be enough, that can’t be… No, no no no, I can’t… I blew up the Community House, no, I… I can’t, no no no.” Ranboo’s voice shook with each word, fingers knotting into his hair and tugging it from his skull as he tried to get a grip on reality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo, you’re not doing what I said,” Phil’s voice echoed through the call, the disconnect tone blipping as the rain stopped falling over him, even though Ranboo’s hair and eyes and face were still wet. His hands were covered in burns that he couldn’t ignore, making them tremor with every slight move. A hand hovered above his shoulder hesitantly before he heard Phil again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is touching okay?” Ranboo took a shuddering breath, nodding with his eyes squeezed shut. A pair of hands rested on his shoulders a moment after, Phil shifting so that he would move to crouch in front of Ranboo. He didn’t urge the teen to open his eyes, which he was thankful for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just take deep breaths, okay? In and out, follow how I’m counting, yeah?” Ranboo nodded again, listening to the man as he gently rubbed circles into his shoulders. His hands rested on the floor in front of him, palms stinging with gravel and dirt that rubbed raw against his burnt hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo slumped over, resting the crown of his head against Phil’s shoulder as he finally caught his breath. The man didn’t push him away at first, letting him rest for a moment. His hand hesitantly moved to rest on the back of his head, patting his hair. There was a slight bit of hesitance before Ranboo melted into the touch with a half-broken keen that sounded more like an Enderman than he would’ve liked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to stay with us?” Phil asked softly, the teen shifting slightly where he sat before looking up to him properly. “With Technoblade,” He clarified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo hesitated, hands curling into a fist in the ground before he winced just the littlest bit. Phil noticed the movement, hands getting away from his shoulders and pulling at his wrists. Ranboo couldn’t help the small cry that escaped his lips as the man ghosted over his burnt hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can bandage these up better at home,” Phil suggested, a half-smile on his face. “I have healing potions there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, his mind arguing with himself as he twisted and turned between sides and alliances and betrayal. He swallowed back a little blot of blood that sat in the back of his throat before he just… ignored everything. Ignored all of the thoughts that flooded his head and thought back on two things he remembered clearly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Phil saved him from lava, Technoblade tried to pardon him from the withers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Ranboo whispered, looking up to Phil’s eyes for the first time. “I’ll come with you.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ranboo isn’t sure how Techno felt about him, even after the slow first few days he had spent staying out of the man’s hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Phil had come home with him, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Techno hadn’t been expecting him, though he didn’t push him away, either. It was more of casual indifference that had Ranboo feeling a bit put-off, just for the sake of not wanting to upset the man that had let him stay at his home after the failed execution. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was nice to look around the spruce house when he had first been brought back, despite how nervous he felt. Ranboo had made a bit of conversation with Edward, Techno’s roommate before he had been distracted by chests of things. No one had been home at the time, so he took the chance to scrounge around and peek into their things, realizing just how rich Techno was despite his small home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a bit overwhelming, so he decided to leave everything as it was. He didn’t want to step on their toes and get himself kicked out. Ranboo knew Tommy was the one who had tried to teach him that everything was just something to take and no one cared, but the exile and the consequences of it had scared Ranboo out of breaking the rules, even if he wanted to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reality check he had faced at the beginning of his time on the lands of the SMP was one that he would not forget quickly, despite how much he wished he could burn the pages that documented it. When he had first come to the SMP, it was under the impression that he would be free to do what he liked, so the harsh consequences of Tommy’s behaviour were enough to make him sick whenever a flick of thought made its way through his brain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he settled in, Ranboo decided that he wouldn’t stay inside the home that Techno shared with Phil, nor would he bother them to make him a house. It really was a nice spot they had settled in, with fluffy snow and flat terrain that had just started climbing up a few hills. Ranboo wouldn’t want to bother anyone, nor would he want to get Techno annoyed, so he chose a small nook in a mountain quite nearby to make himself a small shack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a bit hard to do, but the snow had been blocked off by his boots and he could easily make himself a starting shack in the area he had chosen. It was… open-concept, to put it simply. Made of fences and a small roof of thin wooden planks that had icicles slowly growing in the gaps that had formed in the planks he didn’t nail together properly. Ranboo wasn’t the most proficient with building, fighting to be one of his more strong points. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had managed to find himself a new friend amid all the snow, a small black and white bunny he had immediately gotten himself attached to when he realized it looked like him. The little creature hadn’t even run from him in the same way most newcomers to the SMP did when they first came across him did, and it warmed his heart so much that he decided to make his new friend a small little pen of warmth and food to stay in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo didn’t recall owning pets in his childhood, but the knowledge of building an outdoor pen for a rabbit was something that seemed to be muscle memory. It made him endlessly more curious about what he had been like as a child, but he ignored it and pushed the feeling down, knowing he would get nowhere and end up disappointing himself more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little pen was something he was proud of building, however. It had a little platform for his rabbit to jump up on and had bedding that he made by clawing at some wool that he had fashioned into something vaguely cloth-like. It was one of his better inventions, compared to the ones he had made in the past. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo was similarly proud of the little cow farm and the wheat farm he had been making, happy to help out with Phil and Techno where he could, even if he hadn’t seen them all that often since he had been brought over. Then again, it had only been a few days, and they must’ve been taking the time to relax after the massacre that had been L’manberg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crater wasn’t something he liked to think about, even if he thought it had been justified after a long night of pouring over his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wind was cutting that night, his fourth in the small shack he had built for himself. The torches he had put out were flickering all too often for him to be comfortable that mobs wouldn’t spawn nearby and end up attacking him despite his shared heritage with some of them. Ranboo wasn’t built for the cold as it was, shivering where he sat huddled around his small campfire, embers flickering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At least you’re warm,” He said weakly, turning his head to the small rabbit that had burrowed itself into the bedding he had made for it. Her nose twitched in the cold as he made eye contact before looking away, head swivelling back to the campfire to catch it dying out. Ranboo’s eyes widened, scrambling for a flint and steel in his things before realizing he didn’t have one on him. It had been in his house in L’manberg, gone with the rest of his things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With an unhappy frown and smoke drifting through whistling wind, he curled in closer to himself to save himself the body heat. The snow had mostly been blocked off by his shoddy roof, but the lack of walls was coming back to haunt him as he couldn’t control his jerking limbs. His teeth chattered against each other painfully, canines jabbing into his gums now and then. Ranboo moved to shuffle next to his furnace, pushing his crafting table out of the way to curl up between the two appliances. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rested his cheek on the furnace, finding it to be brick-cold but not caring in the slightest, hunching in on himself as his limbs spilled out of his small corner. The blanket from his bed was tugged from where it was slowly beginning to build up with snow, wrapping it around himself despite how thin it was. He wasn’t the best with weaving, and his meagre skills had only been put to use for a couple hours rather than the week it would usually take to make a proper blanket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo regretted rushing the process, but at least he had something to work with at the current moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn't drift off, however, and his hands stung slightly as the snow melted into water and into his bandages. Phil had been kind enough to treat his burns, though Ranboo didn’t bring up his violent coughing fit that had ended up making him cough up what looked to be blood. It frightened him far too much for him to bring it up, especially with the knowledge that Techno was just the floor above him at the time and he didn’t want to pull too much of Phil’s attention away from the man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The burns he had were mild in comparison to how bad they could have been. On the day of the festival, there was the constant fear that he would be dunked into the water for his crimes even though he knew that no one knew of him being a traitor at the time. Ranboo hated the word traitor to describe him, but he hated water more than he hated the label, so the anxiety that thrummed in his chest followed him to the panic room the day before L’manberg was blown up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was ironic that it was in the water if he hated it so much, Ranboo realized with a huff of a laugh, blinking through the snowflakes that had rested on his eyelashes. He looked up to realize that the small roof he had was crumbling away, wood creaking under the weight of all the snow that had built up. Ranboo sneezed three times in a row before pulling the blanket over his head, shivering under the cloth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo looked up across the field to spy on the spruce house in the distance, heart-squeezing in his chest painfully as he wished he could be there with </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>instead of just alone by himself in a little wooden shack. L’manberg might not have been a home for him, but at least he wasn’t lonely. Fundy might have hated him now, Tubbo might have wanted him dead, and Niki might have gone rogue on her nation, but at one point, they were the only people he had. In his small little shack of solitude, the only people he had seemed miles away, despite how much he wished he could rely on someone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squinted as he noticed a figure making its way through the flurry of snow and sleet that pelted down from the sky, trying to catch sight of a clearer silhouette. Ranboo was unsuccessful, however, and resolved to burrow into the small bit of snow that he was sitting in. His hands clawed at the ground beneath him as the figure grew closer, using his thin blanket as a cover from the weather as he pulled the front of it up to cover the rest of him. He felt like a small burrito of a person, rather than a half-enderman hybrid that had been deemed a traitor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the man came closer, he was able to make out a cape and a large jacket, recognizing the man as Phil as he came into eyeshot. Ranboo’s eyes widened as the man peered into his shack, looking around for something. Did he steal something the man wanted back? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ranboo?” He called, opening the fence gate. “You there, mate?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hybrid wiggled out of his small half-made burrow, poking out a hand as he waved to catch Phil’s attention. He felt like something of a child as the man turned to face him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, F-f...Phil,” Ranboo greeted, still mostly covered up by the thin blanket. Phil’s eyes widened, striding across the small space to pull him up from where he was sitting gently, one arm hooking under Ranboo’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’re you doing out here in the storm, Ranboo? You could’ve come inside if you wanted to,” He scolded gently, more worried than angry. Ranboo yelped slightly as he got up, ducking a bit out of habit to not tower over Phil. He shrugged, blanket tight around his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D-didn’t w…want tuh-to bother you too much,” He said through chattering teeth, gaining a frown from the man. Phil took off his large cape at the sight of the jerky words and movements, handing it to the teen despite the immediate protests. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take it,” He said firmly, not taking no for an answer. “We’re going back to the house, yeah? You don’t need to stay in this little… Garden area.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this is j-just my house,” Ranboo replied, carefully putting the cape on as he stepped outside to join Phil in the knee-deep snow. The man frowned, looking back at the shack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This?” Ranboo nodded, humming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” His eyes widened after a moment, turning back to the shack and entering to grab the small rabbit out of the pen, careful to pick her up with gentle hands and cradling her to his chest. He pulled the cape over to cover his chest and his rabbit in the process, despite the sleepy blink she gave and how she settled back into his arms to sleep. He noticed the look Phil gave him as he came back, flushing a bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Almost forgot,” Ranboo mumbled, the words holding a tinge of bitterness he hadn’t realized they had been holding. Phil didn’t comment on it, instead silently leading him back to the home with large steps in an attempt to trudge through the snow. As the two got closer to the home, Ranboo could see the little details he had previously forgotten, as well as a lot more warmth than his sad little shack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil walked forward first, making his way up the stairs to the door and stomping his boots against the clear porch, getting the snow off of them. That was new, Ranboo noted with something of childlike curiosity, copying the movement and smiling a bit at the satisfying way the snow folded over and fell off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened a moment later, courtesy of Phil, Ranboo standing behind him nervously. Techno was sitting by his fireplace, reading in silence with his back to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you find the kid, Phil?” Techno asked, voice monotone as always, still managing to make Ranboo nervous. Phil chuckled, walking forward and taking his second coat off as Ranboo ducked into the home, quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s here right now. His home wasn’t best for the weather.” At the words, Techno sat up a bit, looking over his shoulder to catch sight of Ranboo, trying to shrug the cape off of him without putting down his rabbit. As the two made eye contact, Ranboo froze, a half-smile on his face as he tried to look friendly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, hi. Sorry for, uh, intruding. I’ll just- Phil invited me?” Techno huffed quietly, turning back to his book as Ranboo hesitantly continued to take his coat off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it,” He called over his shoulder, flipping another page in his novel as the noise of chatter died down into just the fireplace crackling. The warmth that had come from the center of the home was almost too much for Ranboo to handle, but it made his skin itchy in the way that it got after it was suddenly hot after being freezing a minute beforehand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil had made his way over to the kitchen as he finally got the cape off without disturbing his rabbit. His suit was slowly dampening, making his skin sting slightly as he shifted the rabbit in his arms to hold it up like a baby, shuffling to the corner of the home to slide down to the ground. Ranboo’s full attention was on his new friend, lifting her up carefully from under her front legs to press his nose against hers gently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Phil chuckled afterwards, he realized he wasn’t without an audience, head turning to look up at Phil, who had put something on the stove. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s his name?” Phil asked, amused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her,” Ranboo corrected, patting her head carefully. “And I dunno yet. I found her a bit ago.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil hummed, pouring whatever he had been cooking into separate mugs before pulling a dish out, bringing one cup over to Techno, who took it wordlessly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does she like warm milk?” Phil asked, turning back to the counter to grab the two remaining mugs and setting one on the table, taking a sip out of the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” The answer came automatically, though it was more of a murmur as Ranboo got distracted. “Bad for rabbits.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil ‘ahh’ed, nodding as he took a sip. “I made hot chocolate if you’d like. Got an extra mug.” Ranboo looked up, taking his attention off of his rabbit as hesitance stopped him from getting up immediately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure? And if I get up, she might just run around, I wouldn’t want to mess anything up-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Techno interrupted, the man’s deep voice bringing him to a stop. “I don’t mind, neither does Phil.” Ranboo wet his lips once, looking around before moving to set his bunny down on the wooden ground, watching her immediately hop around the general area before getting up himself, walking over to the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a seat, taking a sip of the drink and finding himself content at the warmth that flooded him at the small gulp alone. It might have burnt his tongue a bit, but that was just something he could overlook for the sake of enjoying Phil’s drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” He said quietly, getting a nod from Phil as the man took a seat at the table with him. Ranboo’s eyes wandered over the ground as he tried to figure out where his rabbit went, not finding the little flash of black and white fur he was looking for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bit of panic built up in his chest before it diminished upon catching sight of Techno, the dining table parallel to the couch he sat upon. In his lap, he could see the little rabbit had made herself at home, snuggling into the dressed-down clothes that Techno wore. Ranboo could see glasses resting on the bridge of his nose with half-opened eyes, one hand carding through the rabbit’s fur as he read with the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even if it was going to end up short-lived, it was strangely domestic, Ranboo found himself thinking. He wished that something this peaceful could be permanent, but he knew that in the end, everything would end up becoming a fight once more. There was no resting in these lands, and the knowledge of that made something bite at his chest anxiously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now, he would appreciate Phil’s kind welcome into his and Techno’s home. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>much fluffier than some of my other stuff but i do especially love this trio as well as ranboos rabbit and i needed to include her in this so please take my offerings to make this storyline less painful for u since i do not have much planned for this to make it like... angsty as the techno one.</p><p>(tubbos stream from today, tho.... hmmmmmm) </p><p>anyway, yes, enjoy hope u like please tell me what u thought in comments :) still looking for a couple suggestions cuz i love seeing what u guys have to offer to the things i write. thank u for reading &lt;3</p><p>edit: forgot 2 add; would u b interested in seeing a sbi!royalty au or dnf fic from me lol ive been thinking abt it a lot</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>there's something to be said about old friends and habits that hurt to fall into</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>The thing about Ranboo was that even after his friends had seemingly left him to rot as a traitor, he couldn’t help but find himself drawn back to them nonetheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo was someone that Ranboo valued his friendship with, despite how the teen had reacted to his so-called betrayal. The guilt had made him feel worse and worse in comparison to how anger would have felt. It would have felt more justified, more like something that he deserved rather than the consequences of his unconscious actions coming back to haunt him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, instead, he was greeted with Tubbo’s heartbroken expression when he realized that he had lost Ranboo in the same period he had lost almost everything else. He had been at the cusp of war, awaiting the other shoe to drop so he could prepare for war when he believed Tommy to be dead, and even after everything that had happened, after Doomsday and the pain that followed, Ranboo was still selfish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He missed Fundy, of all people. Niki as well, finding the two having succumbed to their own sides in the aftermath of the entire fight. Ranboo had been out of energy at the time, running out of the emotional energy he needed to try and care for these people the way he did when he had first arrived at L’manberg. It was so much easier to just brush them off and argue and unload his hurt rather than confront his problems head-on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he was as bad as Dream for that, Ranboo had wondered once, a long time ago. Before Dream haunted him in his darkest moments and tried to slowly influence him onto his side. Nonetheless, Ranboo didn’t like himself very much, nor what he did on Doomsday. If it was up to him, he would have buried that side of him far, far away. He didn’t want to be seen as a traitor again, not when he was slowly getting back into favour with people who he liked as they had genuinely cared for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil was a good example of someone he believed not to have bad intentions when it came to helping him. Few of his words had the strings attached to them that the rest of the server usually did. When Ranboo asked to help, it was punctuated with the promise of a portion of his riches if they did, and when they answered his call, it was with a subpar performance that he had rewarded with diamonds anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For Phil, however, it was Ranboo who had to turn the man away more often than not. He kept offering to help Ranboo with projects and offered resources when he first moved there as though he wasn’t in full Netherite with maxed-out tools. It was as though he saw past the toughened exterior that he wore to see the insecurities behind his carefully-crafted armour. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though it would be Phil who would have the most experience with something like that in comparison to everyone else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A good example of his prowess in this extremely specific case would have been Techno, probably the only other example as well. The man was extremely hard to get to at first, despite how he had been willing to give Ranboo’s notebook back to him amid the raining TNT from the skies and the withers that tore L’manberg apart. Despite that, he was still a man of many, many layers that he only pulled back slightly with different people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of the only people who Ranboo thought got to see the real Techno was Phil, easily enough. They seemed incredibly close like they had been twin flames in a past life long ago. Or soulmates, Ranboo wasn’t sure what the terminology was. All he knew was that something in the universe put Phil and Techno together and they clicked incredibly well, despite Phil’s reputation as the Angel of Death and Techno’s fame for never dying. It was an ironic juxtaposition that Ranboo had found funny when he realized it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite these new people in his life, though, something was tantalizing about falling back into the same simple patterns he almost always would search for. It was easier to go back to what he was used to than unpack and unpiece exactly what had made him feel so bad when he had been in L’manberg’s cabinet. Ranboo wasn’t one for anything easy at all, but something about this time made it hard for him to deal with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was Tubbo’s smile. Or Fundy’s kind eyes over a campfire on late nights, or Quackity’s soft tone when he played guitar on his time-off, sitting with his feet overhanging the docks that were mostly abandoned. Maybe there was some poetry to be said about going back to those who hurt you because it was all he knew, or it was just idiocy to let himself be wounded in the crossfire of his own emotions once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Ranboo knew was that he was cold, he was cold in the tundra and he was colder in L’manberg, but Snowchester offered an in-between he didn’t know he could slide into before he had stepped onto their lands and breathed in the scent of pine and let it surround him for a few long minutes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shivered slightly, wringing his hands in front of him in an imitation of the nerves that would follow him in L’manberg. Ranboo would have tucked them into his pockets, but the heavy Netherite armour he wore got in the way of the suit jacket. It was weird, seeing Tubbo go from someone who never wore armour to wearing an enchanted diamond set the moment he saw him. Ranboo thought it was funny, in an ironic sense. The president of a country he never wanted to renounce its beliefs so quickly after it was destroyed, despite the spirit that carried over the first time it was reduced to a crater. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to see you, Ranboo,” Tubbo greeted as he got closer, a smile on his face that tugged at the scar tissue spanning over his left eye and cheek. Ranboo replied with a polite nod, not trusting his voice very much at the moment. Tubbo didn’t question it much, as though seeing Ranboo reminded him of the hybrid’s quiet nature that was unnatural of him completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quiet as ever,” He chuckled, stopping on the ice that grew solidly at the edge of the river, turning so he would stand next to Ranboo easily. Tubbo gestured forward, leaning to glance at Ranboo, whose gaze followed him. “You wanna see Snowchester, Big Man?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo considered the offer for a minute, staring past Tubbo and into the spruce trees that became a thicket of brush and shrubbery. After a moment’s contemplation, he nodded as a reply, getting a large smile from Tubbo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!” The teen said happily, clapping his hands together. Ranboo flinched back slightly at the sound, ears still sensitive to sharp noises after the explosions. He hadn’t even realized that they had been damaged until he hadn’t been able to hear Phil calling for him from a few feet up the porch of Techno’s house. Ranboo supposed hearing problems were something of a norm on the server, with how many times they spoke about explosions and the warfare that had been done before Manburg even existed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was through this research that Ranboo learned of crystal combat, gotten sick to his stomach, strangely, and resigned himself to bed on that night of research. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was snapped back into the present as his feet followed Tubbo’s footsteps, keeping up with the smaller ram hybrid despite how much faster he was. One of the few perks of being tall, Ranboo supposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they moved further and further inland, the snow beneath his feet began to shape into podzol that was dotted with countless orange pine needles, covering the path completely. It looked fairly flat, so Ranboo could assume that the path was used often. The trees were starting to thin out as well, leaving him to see more and more of the rocky landscape before they were finally stopped once Tubbo reached what looked like a small spruce town. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo blinked upon seeing it, Tubbo’s quiet ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>ta-da!’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>going in one ear and out the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For someone that had been considered a dictator by Techno and Phil, this was a quiet piece of land. There was no machinery, no Redstone devices, just humble homes that shared the same spruce design. Smoke curled up from the chimneys and made for pretty accents to the already-grayed sky. Ranboo breathed in deeply, smelling nothing but fresh air and a hint of potatoes. The second part quickly made more sense as they stepped down a now-stone path, leading to a large potato farm by the shore of the ice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo was chattering as he usually did when he spoke of a passion project he was particularly interested in. Ranboo had long since learned to tune some of them out on the days he had particularly bad headaches, not remembering most of the chess lessons the teen had given them. This time, however, there was care woven into his words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And we have like, no rules, really. No one’s in charge, people just come to me now and then and ask to do stuff even though they really don’t need to. So far, I think Jack Manifold and Foolish are going to come to live here! I’m kind of excited, really, I think it’d be a great place to unwind and relax and get away from like… everything, y’know?” Tubbo said, voice softening at the end of his words. They were hesitant. Short. As though Ranboo would disagree with him despite being one of the only people to try and stop the entire Doomsday battle and accept what was coming for them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite this, Ranboo nodded again, opening his mouth to speak for the first time in what felt like a long week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s good to see you’re doing well here, Tubbo. Especially after everything,” Ranboo said, knowing full well that he was one of those things that made him so stressed in the first place. It was something of a bait, really. A test to see what Tubbo would say to the blatant hypocrisy that Ranboo was showing. He had cast his line, and the bait was bobbing in the water waiting for the next fish that would tug on its hooks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo, abnormal as always, swerved around the metal and continued walking forward, a smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re happy for me, big man. Where’ve you been staying?” Ranboo stiffened at the question, pausing for a moment before following after as though he never had a stutter in his footsteps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, far out. You wouldn’t know it,” Ranboo said, voice only slightly trembling. Tubbo didn’t pick up on it, and for a moment, Ranboo wondered just how adept Tubbo became in denial for him to ignore Ranboo’s betrayal and his blatant lies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From there on, it was like a small pit of anger opened up in Ranboo’s stomach, one that begged for something close to retribution from Tubbo or Quackity or Fundy or anyone. Even Jack would be someone that he would be happy to get yelled at by, just anything to make him get rid of the unsettling feeling of ants crawling under his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t given a direct solution to this, but he was allowed to test Tubbo’s limits when he was stopped in front of a large tower, made of stone and spruce with one single door that had foreboding energy to it. Tubbo didn’t seem to pause at the sight of it, so Ranboo spared a glance at his back before he stepped away from the path and opened the door, peering in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was darkened, the only light being the natural light at the very top. Even then, it was only a small portion that had been cut out from the ceiling methodologically. In the middle of the room, there was a single chair surrounded by burnt-out oil lamps. It wasn’t the surroundings that had been scary, but the chair itself held a horror to it that Ranboo had yet to appreciate fully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On top of the chair, suspended with supports, was a large disk made completely of iron. It had yet to rust over, so Ranboo assumed it was fairly new. As for the chair itself, it had straps on the arm handles that were leather and seemed to be made for restraining someone. The legs had similar ones, and the material looked black and shiny under the dim natural light that flooded in from the small roof. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo jumped slightly as Tubbo’s voice popped up behind him suddenly, whipping around to look at him with wide eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You found the electric chair!” Ranboo’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at Tubbo, who was still smiling pleasantly in the face of the words that had just come out of his room. For the first time in a long time, Ranboo felt an invigorated fear of Tubbo and just what the unsuspecting ram was possible of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“E-Electric chair?” Ranboo asked, slipping on his words for a moment. “You just… You just have it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo nodded in response, his smile somehow growing wider. Ranboo shifted back a bit, away from him as Tubbo pushed past him and entered the room, taking out a packet of matches and igniting the oil wick lamps that dotted the structure. After two minutes, the room was dotted in half-burnt matches and it was better lit than it was before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… Why did you need this? Or build it?” Tubbo turned to him, hands wringing in front of him as though he was waiting for it to be asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Funnily enough, it was for you!” Tubbo grinned, presenting it with his hands. Ranboo froze for a moment, and he was pretty sure the teen saw the panic on his face before he waved his hands in a negative, panic overtaking him as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not in a bad way! That sounded really bad, just-” Tubbo sighed, a bit frustrated as he ran a hand over his face. Ranboo, despite his previous hesitance, didn’t book it out of the tower immediately. Instead, he walked in closer, waiting for the explanation. Tubbo took in a deep breath, getting in control of himself before continuing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just- I did a lot of research. After Doomsday, and after I heard the, uh, the news. You know. We both know, everyone knows,” Tubbo rambled, drawing a wince out of Ranboo. He pushed on nonetheless. “Well, I learned a lot about like, memory stuff and some solutions, and one of the most reliable, as far as I found, anyway, was mild electrocution to jog your memory? I- I know you’ve probably had this problem, like, all your life but I wanted to give you the chance to have someone that can help you with it and- I dunno, I thought it would be something we could try? I have the notes and everything, I really did put work into it, and-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you care so much, Tubbo?” Ranboo cut in, his voice weaker than he intended. Tubbo paused, looking back at him as though he asked whether three plus four was nine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, why do I care? You’re my friend, Ranboo. I want to help you in any way I can, especially after seeing how your memory messed you up with Dr-Dream and how everything fell apart in L’manberg.” Ranboo took in a slow breath at the words, exhaling through his nose as he did so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said about Tubbo’s interpretation of the events that led up to his betrayal, and there was definitely something to be said about how he tried to solve the problem, but all his logical thought was put to the side at the overwhelming emotion that swept him up at the mention of Tubbo caring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t that he thought- Well, he did think Tubbo hated him. He thought that and it was something that would leave him just barely holding back tears he knew would hurt him, but now, Ranboo found it a bit easier to breathe. There was less of a weight on his shoulders, and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop and think about what he was doing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think it’ll jog my memory?” Ranboo asked, looking at the chair. It looked mostly unassuming, he tried to justify. It wouldn’t kill him, and seeing Tubbo’s eyes light up the way they did when he had first come to L’mamberg in December was something he didn’t want to throw away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure! And it’s not dangerous, I swear, it just looks kind of scary but that’s only because the villager we had to make it only knew how to make these types. I’m pretty sure he was like, really old and used to war stuff rather than stuff to help, so-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down a bit, Tubbo,” Ranboo cut in, the joke weak but still managing to soothe the ram hybrid’s nerves slightly. He nodded in response, clasping his hands together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So will you try it?” For a moment, there was something in the back of his mind yelling at him not to be stupid, but Ranboo looked back at Tubbo, saw the bright look in his eyes he hadn’t seen in a long, long time, and nodded in agreement. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had tried to convince Tubbo that the straps weren’t necessary before he had insisted upon them in case his limbs jerked out and he hurt himself in the process. He had no complaint against the Netherite, however, and Ranboo was pretty sure that the notes that Tubbo had taken were accurate enough for him not to get hurt. The only real requirement was that he needed to take off his helmet since memory problems usually were in the brain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was sound logic, but Ranboo was still nervous as Tubbo stood nearby a lever, looking through papers before looking back up at the sky. He was beginning to regret this, but he pushed the feelings down the way he was used to doing when he was in L’manberg, satisfied with himself and his self-control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something to be said about unhealthy coping mechanisms, but bringing them up would be a bit hypocritical. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ready, big man?” Tubbo asked from across the room, looking up at him as he held papers tightly in one hand. Ranboo nodded before he could regret the decision and speak up, something of a nervous spiel escaping his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just- Yeah, don’t tell me when you’re going to- Whatever, don’t tell me, just do it,” Ranboo stammered, tripping over his words despite the confidence he tried to apply to his voice. Ranboo shut his eyes, squeezing them tight as he awaited the strike of… of whatever Tubbo would use. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as he was about to open his eyes, he heard the clank of metal and a moment later was hit by what felt like the most painful thing he ever felt in his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like- There wasn’t- White hot pain that would take him by force, making his muscles seize and opening his mouth up in a scream that was drowned out by ringing in his ears. It felt like fire was licking up his clothes and going through his Netherite, it was like the armour was the conductor for a bolt of electricity that would leave him- He felt like he was dying, blood pooling in his mouth- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo shook and he continued to shake as someone ripped at the straps on his hands, he nearly bit the tongue out of his mouth as he was jostled. His limbs jerked out and he whimpered in pain as he tried to catch his breath, breathe in, do anything that would make him feel better. Ranboo didn’t- Why did he think that would be a good idea, what made him want to- Why was he so stupid, he shouldn’t have- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Tubbo could say anything more before he could touch him more or do anything worse or somehow make him want to try it again with fucking doe eyes he didn’t deserve, his body was jolted away in a pull of violet and plum particles that enveloped him and left him in the tundra, stumbling a few steps before the pain became too much and he fell over onto his side, still twitching as it started to gently snow down on the snowy hills. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A caricature of the picture-perfect, snowy day. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi this is a double update i hope u enjoy lol this is a special treat and i like updating things randomly LOL tell me what u thought i am slowly going thru canon in this &lt;3 but also divergent from canon as well</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>learning to trust and learning not to jump to conclusions are two different things, but these things all come together eventually, and blood gods and death angels aren't those to be left out of these things.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno was many things, and he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t flawed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was unused to human emotions that most dealt with, the thrums of immortality infecting his bloodstream in a way unprecedented when the ritual was first performed. There was something of an expectation for a drastic change in the first place, but this was something new and strange completely. It was like someone had taken a hammer to his emotions in a desperate attempt to numb them, only to make them hyper-sensitive in places he otherwise would have kept his cool. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doomsday was probably a good example of something like this happening when he least wanted it to. It was as though he had been given the choice between bad and worse and he pushed them to the side forcefully and burnt down the entire stadium instead. He felt nothing but pure rage and anger and all he wanted to do was to get rid of the city that had robbed him of his humanity, that had made him feel like nothing, that held the citizens who did nothing but agree with the ideals of lands they didn’t own. It was almost as though he could hear the grass whispering to him, begging to be free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>He never said this aloud, though. The last thing Techno would do was be foolish and lay claim to Earth that a forest youngling had already claimed as their own. It was a death sentence if you were a mortal and a promise of eternal misery (in the form of inconveniences) should you happen to be an immortal who wouldn’t fall apart at the seams with one good tug on the drawstrings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno had gotten better at hiding his emotions if he was one to say so himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Around Philza, however, it was a different story completely. Whether it was the older immortal and his gaggle of crows that he seemed so fond of or the complete nonchalance he spoke to Techno with, there was something about the man that had drawn Techno in since he was new to bloodied arenas and everything bad that made him want to tear the world to pieces with his bare hands. Phil was someone who calmed him, balanced out his chaos while bringing his own to the table and being ready to enable him in the moments that he needed to get out his frustration for a good purpose at some point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Doomsday was another good example of this, something bittersweet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil had been there with him, wings stretched out behind him and leaving him suspended in the air as he spawned withers non-stop, cackling with a Totem of Undying strapped to his waist loosely and letting his own bloodlust reign as he took revenge on the city that took his son away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno had met Wilbur what felt like years ago, when he was still a teen and godhood was still something to be held at the tips of his fingers when he was unknowing of the burdens that would come with it. Wilbur was about his age at the time, only two minutes younger, apparently. He had found it funny, really, with how easy it was to antagonize the other teen and how funny he was whenever he snapped back at him with little insults that made him want to laugh out loud, throwing his head back and letting out breathy cackles that he hadn’t made in ages. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he had died, it was jarring. Unexpected, something that had made him physically pause was when he thought he would have been unaffected completely. Apparently becoming a god wasn’t enough for him to ignore the human emotions that came with pain and heartbreak and grief that he wished he had never even touched at all. Wilbur was someone good who had been corrupted by the people around him, in Techno’s mind. Maybe it was flawed of him to think that way, but he was blinded by grief that wouldn’t lighten from anger for a long, long time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ranboo had helped in that process, surprisingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The teen had been one of the people who had been the main contender in his attempted execution, despite being near the back of the small group. It was only four of them, so he easily made up at least 1/4th of the group that had tried to have him murdered. In all honesty, it made no sense that he had been the one that Techno had found some form of trust in where he would usually shin the teen away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something clung to him, though. Some aura of magic and darkness and intrigue that let Techno keep him around. And eventually, it was Ranboo himself that had kept his attention and made him want to keep him around. The teen was kind, considerate, polite at the beginning. He was a model house guest and then after he had broken through the initial growth of trust, he was someone funny, someone, to talk to, someone who had been able to somewhat trust and be willing to turn his back to on occasion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That and how it was Phil who had brought him back from L’manberg. The wreckage of it, at least. It was something surprising, really, because Phil was the one who had insisted that the country was corrupt and it was something that wasn’t salvageable. He was the last person that Techno would have expected to bring back another sad, torn-apart teen. That and he had reminded him scarily of Tommy when he had first come over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except that wasn’t really true, not in the long run. Ranboo was everything that Tommy was in a juxtaposition that wasn’t really cruel, just truthful. He was slow, thoughtful, second-guessing of everything he had done in a while. Ranboo held an aura to him that held years of ancient maturity that shouldn’t have been clinging to the Ender hybrid in the first place. Techno was pretty sure he didn’t know of it either, though it might have been more along the lines that if </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>were aware of it, he would have exploited it for himself rather than letting it end up blank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil’s new stray was interesting, Techno could sum it up by saying.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The snow was still coming down softly, unlike the flurries from the day before. Techno had stepped outside of the Nether portal with a bit of a deep breath, letting his shoulders quiver with the force of it. His hands were occupied by a pickaxe in his right and a bag thrown over his shoulder, filled to the brim with withering skeleton heads. His hands were stained slightly black from prying them off of the bodies of the skeletons he had killed off. His sword was dusted with black, looking as though it had been dipped into ink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno had thought that his trip out had been successful, for the most part. He had been panting with adrenaline, but he was more relaxed than he had been in ages. The voices were nothing but a buzz in the back of his head, finally done with begging for blood and making a mess of themselves, falling over each other in their demands to kill Tubbo and Quackity and Dream and everything in between. It was nice, finally peaceful and-</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ranboo ranboo Ranboo Get ranboo ranboo is hurt ?? RANBOO GOT HURT Ranboo ranboo brotherblade ranboo E E Ranboo get Ranboo Ranboo is hurt Ranboo Tubbo hurt ranboo Tubbo Ranboo Ranboo Tubbo and Ranboo were doing dumb SNOWCHESTER Ranboo get Ranboo ranboo ranboo get Ranboo Ranboo needs help SAVE RANBOO Ranboo needs help get ranboo SAVE RANBOO SAVE RANBOO SAVE RANBOO SAVE RANBOO SAVE RANBOO SAVE RANBOO </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And the voices immediately found something new to latch onto. Which wasn’t unusual, really. He didn’t know where the voices came from or who they were or why he had them because all Phil got was a gaggle of crows that slowly grew over time, but he could predict some of their behaviour over the years he had spent with them. He knew that the voices weren’t easily satisfied, nor did he think they would disappear one day. This wasn’t strange at all, just annoying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, what was strange was how they had immediately fixated upon Ranboo instead of something random as they usually did. Usually, it was something along the lines of screaming into his head endlessly, some of which he heard in the background of voices that were begging for him to go to Ranboo. Which- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know Ranboo all-too-well, really. Ranboo was someone he was a bit removed from, compared to Phil, so he didn’t know what the teen would have been able to do to get himself in trouble. Instantly, his mind flashed to Tommy, who had come crawling back to his home broken and sad and pitiful in a way that made his heart twist instead of making him laugh as he usually would. He waved the thought off a moment later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Ranboo needs me he can message, Chat,” Techno said to placate them half-heartedly, waving off their concerns easily. They didn’t seem very satisfied about it, consistently yelling at him more despite his attempt at dismissing them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>HE CANT HE CANT HEAR HE WON'T HE CANT HEAR PASSED OUT WON'T SEE PASSED OUT IN SNOW FREEZE HE’LL FREEZE HYPOTHERMIA PASSED OUT PASSED OUT WATER BURNS PASSED OUT WATER FREEZE FROZEN HE WONT HE CAN'T HE CANT </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So more than a little bit panicked about him, I see,” Techno said, though he was getting a bit worried himself upon seeing how they kept spamming. They never bugged him this much about it, usually stopping after he first asked them or dismissed them, since it usually wasn’t something too important in the first place. This was like when they non-stop yelled at him about Tommy when he had been under his home the first time, and when Wilbur had blown up L’manberg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe these events specifically were what made him nervous now, but he felt himself growing anxious and started to walk home a bit faster than he had before. As he kept going, he found himself distracted by the landscape around him, looking around despite how he was familiar with all of it. Just walking wasn’t enough for him at the moment and he couldn’t carry a jukebox around with him, so he kept going on and looking at the view to keep himself occupied. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno paused as he saw an oddly-shaped lump far from him, on the outskirts of their area. It wasn’t marked off, but there was definitely a place where he separated the tundra and Home, at least in his eyes. Whatever this figure was, it was far too close to the border of what he considered home for him to be comfortable. As the man got closer, he picked up in speed, recognizing the sad little lump that lived under the cover of the snow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell…” Techno trailed off as he stopped right in front of him, dropping his pickaxe and bag of wither skulls to dig through the light layer of snow that had built up overtop of the teen. There was no telling how long he had been lying there, even with the indication of the snow to work as a measure. Techno felt some form of panic fill him as the Chat infected him with their own flighty emotions and he looked down at Ranboo’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was twitched slightly, eyebrows furrowed in his unconscious state as his body shook, spasming now and then with fingertips quivering non-stop. Techno found it frightening, unsure what to do when he was confronted with something like this. His mind blanked for a moment as he watched his skin burn slightly as snowflakes continued falling on him, as though piling onto the wounds he already had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>With a jolt, Techno realized he already had burn scars on him, taking up so much of his face that  Techno had almost thought it was Ranboo’s actual face. That thought alone terrified him, so he made quick work to hold the teen up in his arms, throwing the cape over him as he tucked him into his arms protectively. Ranboo didn’t stop shaking, but he didn’t wake up, either. Techno couldn’t tell if that was particularly good or bad, so he didn’t stop on his way to go back home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t think about the wither skulls he left in the snow by the expensive pickaxe, abandoned for the teen he held in his arms so carefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he made his way back, the home significantly closer than when he had been on a leisurely trip home, Techno could spot crows in the distance, signalling to him that Phil would most likely be there when he got there. That was good. Phil had always been better with healing potions than he had been, better with most things that had to come with creating rather than destroying. They were almost opposites, in that sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smoke curled up from the chimney, looking more intimidating than anything before when he had just been coming home on a regular day. The way that the clouds ate up the black smoke of the chimney was something of a forewarning to his already paranoid mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno hurried in, throwing open the door and startling Phil in the process. The man jumped where he sat as Techno tracked in snow and slush from outside. The first thing he did was take the teen down to the basement, where they had a cot set up for this very reason. Phil reacted in muscle memory, making his way to grab potion materials and start making health pots immediately before he even thought to question the man. Techno, in the meantime, had set down the teen on the medical bed carefully, rooting through his chests in a panicked haze to find the potions he needed. He didn’t even think Ranboo was awake enough to register that he needed to drink potions, so he settled for finding splash potions instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Phil asked as he came downstairs, eyes locking onto the teen jerking and spasming on the bed as he made small noises in his unconscious state that scared Techno more than they probably should have. Techno made a huffed noise, unsure what to say as he tried to gather his racing thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They- I was on the way back from the Nether portal. And I was walking back with all my wither skulls and- Oh, I left them behind with my pickaxe, that’s- No, that’s like- Yeah, I found him in the snow, half-covered with it and he was all-” He gestured uselessly at the spasming teen with a free hand, trying to piece together his thoughts as he did his best to multitask. “Doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And- The voices, you know how they are, they all just started shouting about helping him and doing this and that and-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil cut him off, patting his shoulder firmly as he flapped his wings once in what was meant to be a calming gesture, giving a gust of air that calmed him down slightly. Techno was brought back down to Earth, he calmed down, he finally got a bit in control of his thoughts. Phil was good at things like this, Techno was learning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We just have to help him now, okay? Calm down, it’s fine, we’re here, he’ll be fine with us. What do you take me for, some minor god?” Phil joked weakly at the end of his sentence, going over to Ranboo’s side as the teen continued to shake where he laid. It was less drastic now, only ever-so-slightly spasming with a leg or an arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like something severe,” Phil commented off-handedly, carefully peeling back his suit layers and armour to see what was off with him. Techno, in the meantime, did his best to mix honey into the potions he had, turning it into an edible paste that he could put on the skin but still feed to the teen in the case he woke up. There was a yelp after a low hiss and the sound of static behind him, and Techno whipped around to see Phil with a wing raised, drawing back from Ranboo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The teen was sitting up where he sat, eyes open. His sclera was completely black, his pupils a neon, shocking purple that was eerie despite its electric colour. Techno stared into them for a moment, watching, almost mesmerized as the teen’s jaws stretched upon unnaturally, static pouring out without movements from his mouth that were needed to… Speak, so to say. This couldn’t exactly be seen as talking, really. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Listening to the static was easy, despite the white noise they brought. It was comforting in an odd sensation and it made something strange stir up in the pit of his stomach, reminding him of things from far, far off times. When he was still young and foolish and unaware of how the world works and when crimson stained his hands. When it stained his hands and smiles still haunted him and people only ever came to him for one thing and all he did was kill, kill, kill, kill to feed and nourish and black and white and capes and white and red seeping away from his pale, pale gray hands, and- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil pulled him back forcefully with a hand on his shoulder as Techno stepped out of his entranced state. He shook his head, disoriented before he looked down at his hand, a netherite sword clasped in it tightly. He looked up to Ranboo and found the teen slumped over once more. Techno looked back to Phil and he found the man panting heavily, one hand raised towards Ranboo, shaking with exertion. Mist curled from his fingers and the smell of particles from otherworldly places infected the air of their basement. Techno could see violet splatters on the ground from where Phil had been pointing, as though it had been pulled back only to stop midway and drop to the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything seemed to have passed in a second, something that terrified him. He wasn’t used to this, he wasn’t used to how things like this would work, he was used to time going by slowly, it wasn’t like he had been- He didn’t- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something,” Phil panted, breaking the silence of the room, “Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked up </span>
  </em>
  <span>with him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>also tell me what u think of this!!! i am very proud of it atm. so very proud. it kind of took a turn at the end, but its pretty good to me.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i cant believe i pumped out like 6k words worth of content today, enjoy ur meals. so sorry this is the first day i didnt update my technoblade au, forgive me &lt;3 take this as a replacement for now, and leave some suggestions on hurt/comfort for ranboo and phil and techno content? ill take inspo from a few but it deffo helps, even if i might not write urs &lt;3 thank u for reading, tell me what u think of this!</p><p>quick edit: changed the fic name, thought this would fit better :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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